During your stay at the hospital, you found that you had no way of telling exactly how long you'd been there. Occasionally, somebody would mention it while talking to you; after around six weeks, you stopped paying attention. To you, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days.
You spent most of the time zoning in and out of the one-way conversations that people would have with you. But obviously, the Avengers were busy and, as much as they wanted to stay by your side, they had important work to do, meaning that their visits became less frequent. However, there was one person who always seemed to be sitting right next to you, and that was Bucky.
Although you were grateful for his presence, you were worried about him – particularly after you overheard a conversation between him and Steve.
"Hey, you should go home and get some rest, you look tired."
"You don't understand, Steve, she is my home. I'm staying with her."
Bucky still wouldn't talk directly to you while others were present, but as soon as they left, the floodgates opened. On a good day, he would tell you about everything from how the rest of the team were, to how he saw a cute dog walking past outside, to how much he missed you. However, his voice would frequently begin to wobble and he would clutch your hand desperately, begging you to wake up, telling you that it should've been him, that he deserved it. His broken sobs sounded all too familiar to you.
Despite the bad days, you savoured your time with Bucky and you put all of the little energy that you had into doing something, anything, that would show him you were still there, listening to him every single day.
One day, halfway through the seventh week, your efforts began to pay off.
"And then Steve dropped his coffee and it went all over Sam's shirt! Sam was really mad." Bucky was telling a story about something that had taken place on one of the rare days that he'd spent away from you. He chuckled quietly and you felt him squeeze your hand, something that he did regularly.
Suddenly, you felt your own hand move a little. Your heart rate sped up as you sensed the movement and you heard Bucky gasp dramatically.
"Am I going insane? Did I imagine that or...?"
You focused intently on the muscles in your hand, and managed to move it slightly again. It wasn't much, but Bucky could still feel your fingers lightly pushing against the palm of his hand. He jumped up and pressed the panic button by your bed, causing a doctor to immediately run into your room, asking him what was wrong.
"She- oh my god, she moved her hand and I asked her if I imagined it and she did it again! Is she waking up? What's happening?" You wanted to laugh at his adorable excitement.
The doctor performed several checks on you before replying to Bucky. "Her vitals are looking better than before. We don't know anything for sure, but it looks like she might be back with us fairly soon. Did you hear that, Y/N? You're going to get through this." He patted you on the shoulder and left the room.
Bucky was silent for a few moments and he took a deep breath, calming himself as he processed the information. When he spoke again, you could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm going to go outside for a minute to call the others and tell them, I'll be right back."
Just after he stood up, you felt him lean down and gently brush your hair to the side before kissing your forehead and whispering to you.
"Y/N, you're doing so well, I'm so proud of you. You'll be home soon... you're coming home, doll."
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PART THREE (FINALE) COMING SOON.